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by redshipper
Summary: How could he not notice it?


She opened her eyes in a jolt; she still was in the water tank, but couldn't hear gunfire anymore in the quiet lab. Olivia sat up and slowly stood up, feeling her legs trembling and unstable.

The air was cold against her skin and soon she was shivering, as she carefully stepped out and closed the tank. Turning around, she saw Astrid, staring back at her with a look of shock in her face and Olivia felt her heart pounding. She made it. She tried a few hesitant steps in Astrid's direction.

"Olivia?" she exclaimed, right after the loud noise of shattered glass filled the air.

Olivia wanted to run to her and hug Astrid, to ask for a rope or a chair for her to sit down. She felt her mouth opening up to speak and her face turned in an involuntary smile.

That was the last thing she knew before her world went black and she lost conscious of everything.

He should've noticed it. How could he not notice it? It was so obvious now, from every perspective he tried to look at. How could Peter not notice that she was not his Olivia?

He sat there for nearly an hour, staring at the wall, staring at Olivia who was sleeping on the bed, peaceful, just like the other her did. Except this Olivia had the faintest of frowns while sleeping, while the other didn't. Still in her sleep, she seemed to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders.

"She's going to be fine. She needs to rest now," the doctor told him, after nearly an hour of evaluations and exams. He patted Peter on his shoulder as he left and Peter allowed his body to loosen up a little, every muscle on his shoulder aching.

He wanted to see her but he couldn't face her just now. He couldn't look at her face and tell Olivia he didn't know she was gone until that call. And that he had fallen in love with her so badly he felt his heart skipping a beat when he heard the woman from New York telling him his Olivia had sent him a message. And the harsh realization that he had been fooled. He wanted to tell her how he felt the ground beneath his feet shattering when he was told she was rushed to the hospital because he feared for her life. Yet he couldn't yet create the sentences in his mind to tell her all that. And how deeply sorry he was that she was once again on a hospital bed. He was deeply sorry for all that and more.

"It was her body's response to exhaustion. Miss Dunham needs resting and sleeping. And some vitamins to treat a minor malnourishment, but other than that she's physically fine, she will leave the hospital soon enough," the doctor tried to reassure him.

Peter shifted on the chair, feeling his eyes burning. He replayed in his mind the late night call, the unfolding moment with Fauxlivia and the cynical smile on her face when she realized her cover had been blown up.

How could he not now?

And the things Olivia might have been through on the other side, all because of him. All because she went over there to get him, to tell him how she felt, to show him how much he meant for her.

And still he didn't notice she was gone.

Peter felt exhausted. The aching in his eyes had developed into a dull pain on his forehead that started spreading through the top of his head. He supported his chin on his fist, while observing the IV dripping slowly into Olivia's system and her slow but steady breathing.

She opened her eyes, blinking slowly, and turned her head to meet his eyes. Peter felt his heart shrinking in his chest when he saw she was smiling at him, oblivious to his angst.

"Peter"

He held her hand in both of his; Olivia's hands were slightly rougher than Fauxlivia's; once again he beat himself mentally; how could he not noticed that?

Olivia put her other hand over his.

"I'm sorry, Olivia," he whispered, his words full of meaning.

"Don't apologize," she whispered back, her voice husky and weak. She looked tired, fragile, even. "You're the only thing that got me through. If it weren't for you I wouldn't have made it back."

If it weren't for him. How could a man respond to such a declaration, he thought to himself. Peter swallowed hard, trying to find a way to express what he felt. He moved to plant a kiss on her forehead, lingering, caressing the top of her head, when all he wanted was gather her in his arms and hug her, kiss her, never let her go again.

He pulled away slightly to see her smiling back at him, relieved. He gave her a faint smile, staring at those green eyes; she was so happy to see him, so happy her eyes practically sparkled, fluttering with sleep.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, still caressing her hair.

"I feel tired, but it's a relief to be home. How long have I been here?"

"About three hours. You should rest, Olivia."

"I guess I should," she said, closing her eyes and squeezing his hand tighter. "Can you stay a little longer?"

"I wasn't plan on leaving. I'll be here when you wake up again."

"Good," she said with a smile. Now she was drifting off already, the effects of her medication getting the best of her. He watched her for another minute, letting his fingers slide carefully down her reddish strands.

Peter moved back to his seat, his fist once again supporting his chin. How could he not notice it? Now that he had some more perspective he knew he wouldn't stop beating himself up, at least not after he told Olivia the truth. He feared her reaction; he feared hurting her even more than she's been hurt, he couldn't bear being yet another person to cause her pain.

He closed his eyes, as he felt a silent tear running down his face.

END


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